Well Meant Sins ON HAIATUS
by Black and White Candid
Summary: Zuko never meant to bring his country to its knees. But as the Fire Nation decays under his rule, very few want him alive. Faking his death, he reenters a life of exile. There, he meets an old friend. But things have changed and old memories die hard.
1. Hand in flame

_**Hey there. I thought up this story while writing my Taang story, Little Girlfriend. And though I do love Taang, it's like a candy. It's wonderful and you have it everyday for a month, but eventually, you need to change for a while. **_

_**This isn't to say that Toko is just a simple ship on the side. I love Toko. It is among my OTP's and I love it just as much as I love Taang. In fact, I ship a little bit of everything, my hate for ships has died. I definitely like some more than others, but I think everything's okay.**_

_**Keep in mind, this will not contain large gaping mounds of tooth rotting fluff. A romance it is, but it's a drama as well.**_

_**Zuko is an old seventeen, he will be turning eighteen in 2 or 3 months.**_

_**Toph recently turned fourteen**_

_**Katara is a new sixteen**_

_**Aang is fourteen, a month or two older than Toph**_

_**Sokka just turned seventeen**_

_**Iroh is sixty four. Because I said so.**_

_**On with the story, yes?**_

_**I disclaim everything. I will NOT say this in any chapter after this and I will NOT make any witty remarks about how if I did own avatar, I would pair so-and-so with such-and-such and have a million dollars. We get it. Seriously. **_

. . . . . . . . . Chapter 1: Hand in a Flame . . . . . . . . .

He awoke to the smell of cinders and smoldering flesh.

It hardly registered with him that it was dark out, still night. He did not have the energy to question his irregular arising.

White hot sparks landed on his hand, startling the young prince into consciousness. He surveyed the room and narrowed his eyes. Fire, controlled and warped. Benders.

Of course they only wanted the ashes of this area; the charred bones of the Fire Lord and those that stood loyally by his side. It would be disastrous to waste such a beautiful piece of architecture trying to overthrow such an incompetent fool.

As smoke filled his lungs, he raised his fingers to the scar that marred a face full of opportunity.

He knew that he deserved this.

"Good Morning, Lord Zuko."

He turned slowly, as if to beg for death, to the voice, too melodic and kind to belong to the one who lit the embers, killed his scant amount of followers.

"Katou?"

A man with sharp hazel eyes glared at him, a remorseful frown crossing his features. Zuko's advisor… and friend.

"Why," Zuko asked quietly.

"It's gone too far Zuko. The rebels want your head on a stake. As does the entire nation. Too many deaths, too many families were torn apart by your agenda."

He was silent as the traitor stroked his hands against the bureau, causing the wood to burn under his touch.

Katou knew that Zuko had good intentions and would never purposefully cause his nation harm. But he wished too strongly for peace, for unity. When the boy took his place on the throne, he was unaware of how many were faithful to his father, accustomed to bigotry and hatred. Whispers of resistivity had trickled it's way into the palace. There were reported rumors of murders of those who supported the Avatar, and tranquility was on few minds. Zuko, wanting to lead the Fire Nation into a new era, decided that immediate action was needed and that penalties were to be dealt. With the threat of imprisonment breathing down the necks of half the nation, the people grew angry and hostile, infuriated at the idea of change. They argued and fought; how dare this insolent child force them to give up their way of life, imprison those that fought for who they were? The numbers grew and the violence spread to other countries, and the resistance became determined to punish to those that had opposed Ozai, those that had brought the world disgrace. They demolished towns and villages, slaying those that supported the Avatar. And with those that defended the Avatar, there were people defending the defenders. Zuko's name had turned red from the mass amounts of bloodshed that his people had caused. Any and all kind feelings, alliances, between the Fire Nation and the rest of the world, quickly vanished into the very air that the Avatar had bent.

With the all the government's money being spent on rebuilding the trail of destruction and rebuilding alliances, the once prosperous Fire Nation fell quickly into poverty. Taxes rose, labor intensified, children were forced to work to sustain their families… now, even the trust of those who held him in regard soured. The Fire Nation was crumbling.

Zuko let out shuddering sob as the fire grew larger.

"There is a reason I asked to be the one to to this," Katou told him, picking up a comb and turning it into soot in his hands. "I know what would be done to you if the rebels were left to their own devices. They will show no restraint, you would be ash! Please, Zuko, please. Leave the nation. Escape."

He shook his head, walked into the middle of the room.

"Burn me, Katou."

The man's eyes widened at the demand. Zuko treasured life of all sorts, even those of the Turtleducks in the pond. He would not be so unkind to demand that Katou do such a painful task!

"B-but sir!"

"Enough! I will not stand for this mockery of a trap. I said burn me!" He walked silently to his friend, whispering, "For the love of Agni, must you be so senseless? There must be soldiers outside, ensuring that you have done your job. I will escape through the window, and you will burn my clothes into soot. Do this in the middle of the room, so it is not to be confused with any other debris."

Katou smiled, nodding. Zuko was a smart young man. He quickly handed Zuko a large shoulder bag, instructing him to fill it with the necessary belongings. Zuko shrieked loudly in mock agony as his advisor set fire to his remaining clothes, a large pile of ash falling to the floor. As he raised the window, still screaming, Katou handed him a large bag filled with gold pieces. They hugged as Zuko's cries died along with his identity.

"Make sure that my uncle knows of this plan and is appointed as Fire Lord. That is my dying wish," he hushed. "And tell Mai… that I tried."

"Good luck, my friend."

He clambered out the window and leapt onto his Eelhound, sprinting into the night, trailing a scent of reminiscence under the vibrant stars.

It wasn't until he reached the desert that he truly began to make sense of it all.

Once again, he was a fugitive, a man who's identity would be the end of him. He had lost his crown and thrown, his woman, and the chance that he would see his uncle once more was miniscule.

He frowned at what had been expected from him. A _boy_. A simple sixteen year old boy, who had spent years dedicated to learning how to rule in exile, to rule a nation of fury driven militias? It made no sense. From day one they had him making decisions and writing treaties.

He never knew in those three long years, that his honor and throne would be his downfall.

No one ever expected that. Not even those that he held close to his heart, the ones who knew him best.

His friends remained in his palace for months, watching with interest as he fulfilled his duties. When he had time, he would spend afternoons at Iroh's tea shop, observing the daily flow of people and the way his friends changed over time.

He witnessed Katara falling deeper and deeper in love with Aang, and vice versa.

He witnessed Sokka (finally) propose to suki, and smiled to himself as he slipped the jade engagement necklace over her shoulders.

He witnessed his uncles pride at his new maturity and self-esteem.

And he could never remember those sudden kisses Mai gave him, mostly because his mind melted into the consistence of the grain meal his uncle liked so much.

He knew that someone was missing from his fond collection.

_She is no friend of mine_, he thought bitterly.

But he knew this was a lie. She was his best friend, the one he trusted most, since he could tell her no lies. And even though she could, he could see in her unseeing eyes, the had no lies to tell.

She was this first to accept him, and the first to spite him as well. The first to leave him after Mai broke up with him. When the nation first began to collapse in the fourth month of his reign, she wasn't there to support him. She left.

He could not bring himself to think of her as lowly as she though of him.

_"She's right."_

_"What," he barked incredulously, "you're taking __**her**__ side?!"_

_She nodded. The stoic girl was right to leave him._

_"She has good reasons to do so. You should consider yourself lucky that she dumped you by using words rather then shuriken. I was personally rooting for the knives to come out."_

_Zuko stared at her. How dare that little shrew talk to him in that way. He quieted his reflexes, reminding himself that he was superior to no one. High positions does not make one better than any man._

_"Well, her reasons are ridiculous. What should she care if I'm struggling with my duties? she's supposed to help me and __**encourage**__ me, not send me into a depressed state that effects my health."_

_"It's not just you who's struggling her, Fluffy, it's the entire country! It's wilting! The Fire Nation is Mai's home, whether she finds it boring or not," the eatherbender declared. _

_"And what would __**you**__ know of home, Mole," Zuko retorted, not fully aware of what he said._

_The ground shook under him, the candles flickering. As Zuko's words sunk in to his mind, he felt a lump of guilt rise. He just had to bring up tho one topic she was sensitive about. After the way he talked to her, when she divulged something so personal, back on ember island, she refused to give him more than three words a day. It took about fourteen apologies and an offer to let her beat him up for her to finally acknowledge him. He had a feeling that this would be different._

_Three sharp spikes erupted from the ground, splashing him with rubble, jetting over his shoulder, missing his throat by a matter of inches._

_"Disgusting. Figures. Your stupid power has gone to your stupid excuse for a head. While you waste your time fretting over some girl, your kingdom is falling apart! And to make matters worse, the one person who has the gall to tell you, so you can change it, you insult! You're acting like some ignorant prince. Remember who your friends are, Fluffy. …… 'Cause next time you forget who you really are, I'll be aiming."_

_The earth needles fell into sand, he felt some of it dusting his uniform. When he finally opened his clenched eyes, she was gone, the harshly cracked ground evidence of her departure._

She left the next morning.

He never heard from her again.

The rest followed within the next two months, though they were slightly more polite about it. They at least had the sensitivity to make up excuses. Sokka and Suki had to return to Kyoshi in order to train the new recruits, Aang wanted to travel for fun, now that his duties as Avatar were fulfilled, of course Katara could stand to be away from him, so… But he could feel how the city's bleakness depressed them. They didn't want to see him plummet.

He smiled bitterly.

_They were right to run. _

It was better this way. But he knew that the news of his 'death' would pain them.

Katara would cry for days, blame herself, even if there was nothing connecting herself to the assassination.

Aang would hold her, comforting her, while gazing off into the stars, the way he always did when he had to face problems.

Suki would be silent for days, pushing Sokka away, then, she would cave in, collapse into his arms and sob.

Sokka would train ruthlessly, until his muscles ached, the loss of another loved one a heavy burden on his soul.

He knew they would all shed tears. Except for her.

He smacked down the reigns on his Eelhound, startling the beast into a frenzied run. Hoping to reach the shore soon. He was pushing those thoughts out of his mind.

And even as he buried his mind in self-hatred, he wondered if she would smile at the news of his murder.


	2. Tangled Up

_**Okay, peeps. I'm gonna write about 3000- 5000 words per chapter and I'll probably update every five to nine days. This is a flexible standard. I will write as much or as little as I want. So don't go averaging. I'm gonna need a beta probably, so if you have an AOL account and would like to be my beta, let me know. This person needs to check their e-mail constantly and have a good eye for finding mistakes. Also, they have to be able IM or skype or something (teen second life is preferred), so ideas can be tossed around. **_

_**See ya! Yip Yip!**_

. . . . . . . . . Chapter 2: Tangled Up . . . . . . . . .

Zuko considered himself a master of stealth. He knew how to silence his footsteps, leap from rooftop to rooftop. But he never actually expected to escape, to live to see another dawn. And he felt a small flicker of elation burst and spark in his chi as he lay to rest, tall teal grass outlining his figure.

He easily recognized beauty, and that word, that simple, clichéd word; beautiful, was the only possible word that could describe that sky.

The sky was a weak, sweet lavender to his right and then falling into a gradient of deep Sapphire. The stars dotting their way along the canvas in a fine powder made him sigh in satisfaction.

Zuko smiled. His mother always told him he was a poetic boy.

_Maybe I can actually find her this time, seeing as I have so much free time,_ Zuko thought wryly.

Zuko missed her so much, with every fiber of his being. When he demanded her whereabouts from his father, all the man did was smile cruelly, sweat soaked dirty hair falling wildly in his face. Zuko no longer saw any paternal kindness in his eyes, but instead saw madness, a mind corrupted by greed and sickness, and felt pity. Ozai spat at his feet, cursing; he lost her for his discourtesy towards his father, and said that Zuko had best mind himself that he should not make the same mistake, lest he wanted to feel pain of the same sort.

With the lack of care from his father, he contacted Jun. She hardly raised an eyebrow at his arrival, as she was quite accustomed to his presence. But the scent off of her ornate comb was too old and stale to be able to trace. Too many hands had touched it, and her animal wailed in confusion, burying it's nose in the dirt.

Out of all the failures that Zuko had ever experienced, none tasted as much like defeat as this one did. This time, rather than his failing feeling like a slap in the face, a crack of a whip, it felt like lightning to the heart; instant death.

Failure was the one thing that Zuko ever truly understood in his life, it seemed to so accurately describe it. He failed his uncle in Ba Sing Sae, he failed to capture Aang, he failed to keep Mai's heart, hell, he failed his entire nation.

But as he drifted into the lightness of sleep, under the stars that he never could see in the brightness of his palace, he couldn't bring himself to be upset.

That would wait for the morning.

He dreamed strangely that night.

Zuko always dreamt in faces. That is, he would dream in events and happenings and actions, but he could only remember the faces and expressions. And only when he saw an expression again did he remember the dream. It had been like that since he was a baby, and Iroh would call him 'little Koh,' or 'baby face stealer'.

But tonight there was only fire, and the memories that went with it. Burns and intense training, his scar. Cerulean flares that always seemed bent on tormenting him, humiliating him in comparison, burned their way into his subconscious. But there were also hot coals heating uncle's jasmine tea and hot baths. Fireworks and warm meals flooded his senses, triggering doubt and sadness. Ironically pink lips twisted themselves into cruel smile before blue clouded his vision.

He bolted out of sleep, his arms rocklike, holding him in his startled sitting position.

Zuko sighed. It would be a long day.

He decided to start walking, hoping to find a small town in which he could rest and stock up, buy a tent and a tarp to provide shelter and protect him from rain. Protect him from the world.

As he walked, he brooded.

Brooding was an art form he had perfected. If he was to live out the rest of his life in solitude and simplicity, then he needed some time to sulk, let the idea of peasant life sink in. Once again, he had grown used to the idea of servants and hot water, the meals that suited the royalty that consumed them. The absence of these accommodations made his stomach rumble in loneliness, craving conversation and good will. He also wanted some Gaoling Quailduck. He licked his lips, trying to remember the slightly sweet dense taste of the skin blending with the tangy sauce. But all he could dig up was a simply cooked dinner. No fancy sake or wine, nor fluffy pillows to relax against. Just some plain wooden dining set, a steaming plate, and good company.

. . . . . . . . . . . . 

_"Wait. If you're blind… how can you cook?"_

_"We've been over this, Hotshot. I see-"_

_"I know, I know, with your feet. But you spent your whole life in captivity, how did you learn to cook? It seems like your parents would keep you ten feet from any __**spark**__ that crossed your path, never mind a heated pan."_

_"You talk about me as if I was a Lizardboa in a zoo," she yawned, placing a bowl of rice before him and returning to the pan, which sizzled as the quailduck cooked. "It wasn't like I couldn't escape, I just didn't have any good reason to. Where would I go? I couldn't read a map, and my 'vision' can only go just a bit further than a normal person's. Plus, one toe out of place and I would be locked away in one of those gross steel coffins."_

_Zuko picked up a few clumps of rice and carried them to his waiting mouth. Smiling, he savored the slightly salty taste of pork against the simple brown grain. The next several bites were larger and the gaps between them smaller._

_"But, they needed to teach me __**some**__ useful stuff. If they were ever to marry me off, I had to possess the 'skills and poise required of a young and able wife'," Toph mimicked, her voice, he assumed, was meant to imitate her mother's. She had never seemed particularly fond of the woman, and had in fact wished her pain on several occasions when a bad memory had resurfaced._

_"So they taught you how to cook?"_

_"And clean and be pretty and please my husband. Cooking was my favorite, though. They didn't really let me touch the pan, but they had the cook explain everything to me, what she was doing and why she was doing it, how the dish should smell when it was over the right heat… and I watched her do everything. They were quite surprised when they found that I could actually accomplish something."_

_Zuko nodded, watching her jiggle the pan and turn over the bird, causing a series of sizzles and crackles to burst from the kitchen. With another bite of rice, he stood and joined her._

_"Thank you."_

_"Huh?"_

_"Thank you," he repeated, "for sharing the story with me. It must be hard to think about such an unpleasant time."_

_She rolled her eyes and sprinkled an aromatic spice in the sauce._

_"It is isn't. I'm not confiding some personal recollection in you. Seriously, I'm just answering your question. You would know if I was 'confiding'."_

_"I would?"_

_"You should. It's happened once before."_

_"It did?!" Zuko panicked. Had he missed such an important message? His friend, his __**best**__ friend, had told him something that troubled her, and he forgot?!_

_Toph lowered the embers on the stove and groaned._

_"Don't tell me you forgot, numskull. The beach, a few days before the comet? A period of me ignoring you that lasted several weeks? Any of that jog your memory," she teased._

_He smiled. Good. She wasn't angry._

_"Just a bit. Hmmm… I seem to recall twelve apologies and several small boulders to the face."_

_"Fifteen apologies, actually. But it's okay. You were stressed and I was probably making you think about your parents with all my family-mumbo-jumbo talk. You were still a jerk, though. And you owe me a field trip."_

_"Field trip?"_

_"Yeah. Did you forget that too? Oh c'mon! That's the whole reason we had the fight, well, kinda. If you had gone alone and I had searched a different part of the island, then I wouldn't have felt the need to divulge. So, hence the field trip that you owe me."_

_"I have some duties I need to attend to, but I can go in a month or two," Zuko told her, ladling some more rice into his bowl. _

_Toph smacked a stone spoon against his hand, causing him to wince a bit. The girl still didn't understand her own strength. Or maybe she did, yet enjoyed inflicting small units of pain upon her friends. She lifted the spoon away, a tiny smirk making itself evident on her face. She put the utensil back in the pocket of her apron._

_"Don't fill up on rice. The quailduck is gonna be done soon."_

_"Yes, __**mom**__."_

_"Well, at least you understand the concept of an authority figure. Now, go wash your hands," she sniggered. "Go sit down. I'll be done in a second."_

_He obeyed, watching out of the corner of his scarred eye as she slid the poultry out of the pan and onto a metal platter. She lifted the small pot beside her and drizzled a thick brown syrup onto the meal. He inhaled, breathing in the sweet aroma, sighing as it caused his mind to fog in hunger. _

_She set it before him and cut him a few pieces, and then served herself, sitting down._

_Zuko lit one of the candles that stood before him._

_"Wouldn't Mai be slightly suspicious of all this? Candles?"_

_"Why should she," he reasoned. "We're just friends. She knows this. It would be like being jealous of Sokka or Aang!"_

_"I highly doubt that there would ever be a situation in which you and Aang or Sokka would be eating a meal with lit candles between you."_

_"Good point. Still, Mai trusts me and thinks highly enough of you. You're her favorite."_

_Toph smiled. Zuko knew that she liked Mai and got along well with her. Quite a few times, Mai invited herself over to the garden Zuko gave the blind bender and enjoyed some tea. After the seemingly girly activity was done (most had no idea that the two would spend most of the activity arguing over who's friends were stupider and dissing their parents) they would spar for hours, teaching each other new forms._

_"True, I guess your girlfriend is a little more understanding than the average person."_

_"Yeah. Speaking of which…"_

_"What," she drawled, annoyed._

_"Are you ever going to tell him?" _

_She shifted nervously in her seat._

_"I don't know what you're talking about."_

_"Toph," he chided._

_"What?!"_

_"You know exactly what I'm talking about," he said quickly. He didn't want her cutting him off. "If you don't tell him, the feelings are only going to feel worse."_

_She sighed, resting her head on her palm._

_"You haven't even touched your food. It's considered rude to not at least try what your host is serving you."_

_"Don't change the topic, that's even- hey! This is delicious!"_

_She smiled. She liked making others happy, even is she __**was**__ slightly egotistical and self-centered. Zuko wanted to help her, the least she could do is address the matter at hand._

_"No, I don't think I will tell him."_

_"You're afraid he'll reject your feelings."_

_"No," she corrected, irked, "I __**know**__ that he'll reject my feelings. I'm not afraid of getting my feelings hurt, and the fact he wouldn't feel the same wouldn't hurt me anyway. I don't want to upset Katara. And I don't want to get in their way."_

_"But-"_

_"But nothing. Zuko, you just don't get it!"_

_He was taken aback. She rarely used his name, unless something was wrong. It was always Fluffy, Hotshot, Gingersnap… something. But now, just… Zuko? He looked at her in the eyes. Though opaque they were, he could see everything: confusion, annoyance, jealousy, sorrow, heartbreak… hope._

_"Then tell me," he urged, putting his hand over her small one. She looked up at him and her expression hardened. "Help me understand."_

_"Katara is one of my closest friends. She's like a sister to me. And she loves him… and he loves her. If I tell TwinkleToes that I like him… he'll feel obligated to like me back, and that would kill both of them. Aang's too nice to risk hurting someone. It's just so… frustrating! After the comet, it seems like everyone just magically got together. Poof! Aang and Katara, Sokka and Suki, you and Mai. It feels like I'm the only one left without someone! You're all just so happy… and I'm sitting here and waiting for this damn feeling to pass. I don't like it. I don't like liking someone who will never like me back. And I don't like how alone and out of place I feel."_

_He looked down. Toph wasn't wrong. A confession of self was easy to recognize. He just wished that this had come earlier, before he had deemed her as his closest friend, at a time he could cast it aside. __**He**__ didn't like to see how hurt she was by this. She was suffering. And he had no idea how to solve anything._

_"Once Mai's birthday passes, I'm leaving. I've spent too much time in one place and I'm going stir crazy. There are still places I want to visit, places like Kangaroo Island and the other air temples. I hear the architecture in those are just as beautiful as the western one."_

_Zuko stood up sharply in surprise, knocking his chair off of its legs. It clattered on the floor, the sharp sound piquing Toph's interest._

_"What?! You can't go!"_

_"I can. You and I both know that I don't belong in high society. I need wide open space."_

_"But I gave you your garden. It's over five acres wide! And you hate the altitude."_

_"A large piece of land with pretty flowers isn't exactly what I would call the great outdoors! I need to feel the different kinds of earth under my feet and smell different smells. I'll face my fear of falling; I'll earthbend my way up. And I can rock-ski my way there."_

_With an angry wail, he slammed his fist on the table, causing his bowl of rice to jump and fall. She didn't even blink, but placed another slice of quailduck in her mouth._

_"I order you to stay," Zuko growled. "You live in my nation, under my rule, therefor, you are my subject. You __**will**__ stay."_

_"You would limit me to the confinements of a nation you can hardly run? You would take away what I need to feel sane? You want me to stay because I'm your friend and you would miss me, but you'd risk my happiness in order to have my company. Is that truly what you want to do, Hotshot? Make me unhappy?"_

_Zuko shook his head and righted his chair. No, he would never do something that would make her so uncomfortable and miserable._

_"Then let me ask you something. Why are you really leaving," he questioned almost threateningly._

_"I told you. I need freedom; space. I'll come back in a month or two."_

_"No. You're leaving so you won't have to face the fact that you want to be with someone who's in love with a friend you care about. You don't want to admit that you want him for yourself, that it's killing you inside."_

_This time, she was the one to rise. Several large stones rose with her._

_"I'm leaving to see the world, Fluffy. And don't you go telling me any different," she snapped. "I don't give a damn what Twinkletoes and Honeybunches do."_

_"You're running away."_

_"I am NOT!"_

_The walls began to shake and large cracks darted across the floor. The young girl bit her lip, forcing her anger into the pit of her stomach. She swallowed her rage along with another spoonful of rice._

_There was a long period of silence before one of them moved. Zuko relit the candle that had flickered out._

_"I'm sorry," he apologized. "I shouldn't have baited you like that."_

_"You're right. I am running. But I need to get away from him for a little while. I don't think I can bare to see them make out in public one more time. If I have to hear that stupid pet name again, I think I'll barf."_

_"Yeah," Zuko chuckled, relieved that the heavy mood had lifted. "Berrybee. She sounds like a dessert. But still, her calling him baby tends to induce my gag reflex. They've been going out for like, what, two months? And they're acting like newly weds."_

_She laughed genuinely. She was glad that she got everything she had bottled up out in the open. It seemed… healable._

_"So you're okay with me leaving?"_

_He pondered this for a few moments. "I'm not okay with it, but I'm not going to stop you. If you need this… I understand." He raised his cup of water in the air and smiled. "To friends?"_

_"To friends."_

. . . . . . . . . . . .

Zuko sighed. Those were happier times, yet even then, he was struggling with his country. It got worse after she went exploring, soul searching. She found a few friends along the way, people who gave her food and water, people that would write letters that she would dictate to them. Her letters were long and wonderful, as if written by a poet. Katara assumed that this was the result of the fine teaching she must have received in her childhood. And for every one of her friends, she sent trinkets and presents from a place that interested her in particular.

In a small city just west of Omashu was an interesting market, a place where people came from all over to sell their crafts. She scammed a few scammers, playing just enough to get what she needed (Katara made a sour face at this), and searched the market. She sent Katara a set of hair combs from the northern water tribe, and Uncle got an ornate tea pot, made by a tea enthusiast from Ba Sing Se. Sokka got a few tools to manage his sword, while Suki was given a dress, which was light yet sturdy, good for battling.

Aang's was noticeably the one she spent the most time and money on. It was certainly beautiful, even radiant maybe. Toph knew about Aang's love for animals, as she had watched him with soft admiring eyes as he cared for Appa and Momo. Zuko grinned at the expression on Aang's face as he opened a box filled to the brim with small crystal animals. He had enough to start his own glass zoo. Surprisingly, her massage to him was incredibly short and uncaring, blasé. Even from miles away, she couldn't escape the feeling he gave her, the effect her had on her.

Everyone was amazed at the small crystal animals, even the prince.

Yet, Zuko's own present was his very favorite. It was small, the least extravagant by far, but none the less…

Behind the featherweight protective paper lay a small candle. The letter said that it was made by an inventor from Whale Tail Island, and when lit at night, it would combust into a million different colors. She bought it for him so he could remember what he loved about fire, and what she loved about him.

He missed her so much. He would be missing her thirteenth birthday, her entry into womanhood. So he began shopping for **her,** trying to find her a present she would appreciate, something she would love.

This task, he discovered, was easier said than done. The fact that Toph wasn't picky made everything harder, since he wanted her to adore the gift from the bottom of her heart. Mai would just smile lightly at his extreme effort, telling him that when he saw the gift, he would know.

And though a master of shopping he wasn't, he found the gift, just like Mai said he would. It was unexpected, however. A dress didn't seem like the kind of thing Toph would like. Especially one so girly and impractical. White silk embroidered with coral phoenixes, sleeveless. He wasn't quite sure how she would react. But he would explain, and after imagining her in one dress, seeing his best friend look so pretty, he just **had** to get her another… and another. Soon he found that he had bought nine dresses, each one dramatically different from the rest.

When she returned home, he would throw her a party for her belated birthday, and he would make sure that she wore the sweet white dress, even if he had to force her into it himself.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

_Zuko sat at the gate of her garden, pacing impatiently. He had not seen her in a month and a half! Where was she?! She said that she would be there before the sun set._

_He tossed a small flame from hand to hand to distract himself. Right hand… left hand… right hand… left hand…_

_"Calm down, Zuko," Aang pleaded, "you're making me nervous."_

_"But the sun is about to set! She's going to be late!"_

_"She's… Toph," Sokka reminded him, sharpening his sword. "Punctuality isn't likely to be on the top of her priority list. Maybe she found a nice mud puddle to splash around in."_

_Katara giggled. "Or maybe she's busy learning new forms from the badgermoles."_

_Zuko seethed and reached behind him, his hand latching onto one of Katara's braids. With a huff, he yanked his hand towards the ground._

_"Ow! Zuko, what was that for?!"_

_"Don't make fun of her."_

_"I wasn't! What Sokka said was worse!"_

_"He doesn't have enough hair to pull."_

_Aang stepped between them, seeing that the talons were about to come out._

_"Easy, guys. We're all just a little bit anxious because we've missed her. Let's just chill out."_

_"Chill out?! She could have been ambushed on her way here for all you know! She could-"_

_"Be heading our way at this very moment?" Suki quipped._

_Zuko looked up, and grinned immediately. There, leading a gigantic dust cloud, riding a wave of earth, was Toph. He ran toward her, ignoring the concerned stares from his friends. He held out his arms, waiting for the bone shattering tackle…_

_And watched as she breezed right past him, running into Aang's arms. There was something so sad about this hello. Everyone knew the tears that ran down her face were out of joy, but he could feel the pain no one could see. He felt her heart pang with hurt as Aang returned the hug wrapping his own arms around her, a platonic embrace, so much less than she wanted. The very thing she was running from, the thing that was draining her, was welcoming her back, hugging her._

_Yet Zuko let it carry on. He waited, as she went from person, to person, to person. Hugging and laughing shallow laughs, until she turned, and gave him a thin grin. They walked towards each other easily, and finally, she was back beside him, in his arms._

_"Don't ever leave again," he laughed, punching her in the side._

_"I'll admit, Hotshot," she said, punching him back with thrice the force, "I missed you like crazy."_

_"No, seriously." His tone changed; more loving, somber. He pulled her close, into a tight embrace. "Don't leave again."_

_She frowned. And returned the gesture. "I won't. It didn't help anyway, it only got worse. I thought maybe, if I was gone long enough, he might find that he needed me for some reason. Did he?"_

_He hesitated._

_"I… I guess not. He missed you… but…"_

_"He still doesn't like me like that at all," she whispered softly. _

_He looked over at Mai, silently asking her for advice. The dark girl shrugged, but sent him an encouraging glance. While they walked into her garden, and while the others left to get ready for the secret party, he kept his hand over hers, giving her whatever support he could. And with the tiniest spark of an idea, Zuko allowed himself a mischievous smirk._

_"I saw that, Fluffy. You're planning something. I can feel it in your heartbeat."_

_"Yup. I am. But I'm not gonna tell you unless you follow my directions exactly."_

_She narrowed her useless eyes at him._

_"No. I'm not going to follow your stupid rules unless you tell me what you're up to."_

_"You're loss," Zuko shrugged._

_"Fine, then I won't do what you say."_

_"Okay. I won't tell you my secret."_

_She growled, a small war of options and will waging in her brain._

_Three… two… one…_

_"What do I have to do…?" She moaned miserably._

_"Not kill me when I show you your birthday present, and then allow my servants to help you a little bit."_

_She nodded and followed him into the small house in her garden. Or at least it seemed small, but one step in, a few stairs down, and the place was huge! Despite it being made entirely of rock and clay, it was warm… like a home._

_"Open your armoire," Zuko instructed. "And feel around."_

_She stuck her hand in and pushed and pulled her hand along the clothes, surprised by the silk dresses. At first she was delighted by the fabrics and textures, but he gaiety soon melted into fury as she felt the hem, the stitches, the cut._

_"Dresses?! You got me dresses?!"_

_"Happy birthday!"_

_"Zuko, when I'm done with you- Argh! Get off me!"_

_Two servants lifted her off the ground and carried her away, taking away her connection to the earth… and her aim._

_"The slightest pink for the lips, rouge, and shiny hair. Make sure she wears it down. No bun!"_

_"Ginger! Make them put me down so I can pound you! A makeover?! You call this a present?! Oh, once I find out what this stupid plan is, I am going to kick you so hard that reproducing will be a big problem for you!"_

_She continued her rant as they pulled brushes through and washed her hair, as they patted a light layer of blush onto her already rosy cheeks, as they painted her lips, as they forced her into the white dress, and as they carried her to the castle, making sure the she couldn't see a thing. Zuko contemplated putting a blindfold on her, but decided that he had tortured her enough, and he should spare himself a little retribution._

_He clasped her hand in his own as his servants set her down._

_"If he doesn't immediately fall in love with you tonight, then he isn't worth your time. He won't be able to keep his eyes off you."_

_He lead her in to the main ballroom, and smiled as she held back a tiny gasp._

_"Happy birthday, Toph!," echoed hundreds of voices. Many murmurs spread through the room like mist, how beautiful she looked, how she had become a young lady._

_"You threw me a birthday party? No way!"_

_"Way. Look into the crowd. I see Bosco."_

_And in the crowd, past Bosco, as he saw those crystal blue eyes, his mouth hung down in fear. Katara looked just as lovely as Toph did. If not prettier. The older girl had a face born from song, and her radiance shone so bright, the Zuko felt the need to shield Toph from the dazzle._

_But Aang watched, not Katara, but Toph, as Haru offered her his hand, offered her a dance._

_He wasn't jealous of Haru, but he finally saw Toph, if only for a second, in a way Toph wanted to be seen by him. As beautiful and graceful, as a girl._

_Katara went over to the beverage cart. Waterbenders got thirsty so easily in the heat of the fire nation. Zuko seized the opportunity._

_"Hey, Aang."_

_"Hey, Zuko. Happy Toph's Birthday."_

_"Same to you," he laughed, pausing for dramatic effect. "She's really something isn't she?"_

_"Yeah. I always thought Toph was pretty, but man, she looks…"_

_"Amazing?"_

_"Gorgeous. Teo's gonna drop dead when he sees her."_

_Zuko shook his head. Didn't Aang just say she was gorgeous? Why wasn't he rushing to dance with her?_

_"Teo?"_

_"Yeah, he's always had a little thing for her. Obvious, you know? It's a little sad, really, that Toph doesn't notice how hard he tries. I feel bad for him. Must suck when the person you like doesn't like you back. I'm lucky I have Katara, I don't have to suffer the same fate."_

_Zuko tried not to strangle him, but he couldn't hide his angry scowl. He stormed away, but just as he was about to leave, he saw Aang cross into the middle of the room, tap Haru on the shoulder, and ask Toph to dance. Her whole face lit up as he twirled her around and whispered something in her ear. She blushed, her cheeks turning to a color that matched fire lilies. Zuko knew he would never admit it to him, but she was in love. _

_And it was so unrequited that it made him want to scream. Stupid Avatar. The boy made his best friend, almost sister, go through so much hurt. And she would willingly go through it time and time again, just for him to notice her._

_Something wasn't right. He could feel it in the air. _

_The song ended, and Toph ran back to him, holding her arm over her eyes, masking the fact that she was sobbing harshly. For the first time, she cried unwillingly, her body taking horribly instinctive control. It hurt. The droplets stung her eyes, and dried burningly on her cheeks. Her caught her in his arms, and waved Mai over to him, at first she yawned, but when she saw Toph's back heaving inconspicuously, she jetted over. She helped Toph into his arms and the carried her to his quarters, grabbing tissues, and a wet towel in haste._

_"I'm an idiot," she sniffed. "Who am I kidding? What would he see in me? I'm just pretty for the night, and then back to silly Toph. He told me I looked breathtaking. And I was so damn happy. I thought that he was finally seeing what I always hoped he would. But then he said that I __**clean up nice.**__ Like I'm some dirty little sewer gerbil. Hah. Like I could compare with the Waterwitch."_

_One of the porcelain vases near the door shattered. Zuko pouted. He liked that vase._

_"Toph," Mai said softly, her voice surprisingly out of character, "Aang's a fool. You're smart, and resourceful, and brave, and strong, and funny."_

_"Yeah," Zuko added, "you even make __**her**__ laugh."_

_A throwing knife embedded itself into the wooden bedpost near his head._

_"And you're really beautiful," she continued._

_"Really?"_

_"I'd say arresting or stunning, but my girlfriend's in the room."_

_Toph glared at the bed she sat on and ripped the water from her eyes. _

_"Thanks, guys." She pulled both of their collars near her face. "If you tell anyone about this, I will bury you alive."_

_Both nodded frantically. Now was not the best time to get of the girl's nerves._

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . 

The ex-prince moaned. The memories, the trust he once had from friends, was poisoning him. Killing him with what he could not obtain. If only he had asked for help while he still had time. If he had only worked up the courage to tell Mai how much he cared for her, or he had spent more time hunting and being guys with Sokka or Aang. If only he hadn't taken out his anger on Toph, when she was trying to get him to see clearly.

If only… If only.


	3. Author's Note

_**Hey guys, I know I haven't updated in… forever… and I'm really sorry. I will definitely have a new chapter up within a week or so, and maybe even in a few days. Expect lots of writing this summer!**_


	4. All at Once

Zuko lifted the canteen over his head, shielding his eyes from the blinding sun. With a slowness that almost seemed deliberate, the last few drops of water fell onto his cheek, taunting him with his thirst and hunger. His Eelhound groaned beside him, pushing her nose into his hand. She licked the moisture from his palm.

"I know," He said hoarsely, his throat rough and burning. "Me too."

He stroked his fingers against her scales, soothing the poor beast with all that he could give. The heat of the Earth Kingdom was surprising. He had forgotten, despite his desire to rekindle peace among the nations, that they all shared the same sun. Red and itchy, his skin was peeling, and his feet blistered in his shoes. One day on a ferry, two riding, two walking after his steed could no longer support him. Sleep was less prioritized than living, so it was used sparingly.

Even after all his walking, he had only escaped the desert.

The Eeelhound shook its head, flinging saliva on Zuko's arm. He hushed lowly, staring into her massive black eyes, scraping his fingers over her rough sunburned nose. She blinked slowly.

Zuko had always had a strange skill with animals. As a young boy, his mother gave him a Huskyjackal pup to keep him company when she could not, afraid that her son's attachment to her would hinder his ability to rule. At first he was apprehensive, unsure of something so loving and devoted, yet soon he and the puppy were inseparable. Zuko trained it, fed it, and cared for it himself, proud to have something that not only obeyed him, but loved him. It followed him everywhere and followed every command. Even his father praised him for his hard work.

And Azula wouldn't stand for that.

One morning the dog was just gone. And things went back to normal. Once again, the young prodigy was worshiped and doted upon while the heir sank back into the background, unnoticed and unremarkable. But Zuko knew all the while that his pet was the first thing Azula had ever killed.

Still, it was hard for him when he got the news of her sister's death, burned alive in her jail cell, wouldn't stop bending, even as the metal heated. He kept remembering her as she was before the schizophrenia took over, before the aspergers took away her ability to connect with people, back when she was his little sister. She would beg him to read to her, her chubby cheeks red and rosy, her tiny hands clutching a story. Even if it was too hard for him to read, he made up his own tale. On cold, stormy nights she would hide under Zuko's bed, whimpering until he invited her to sleep next to him. She was sweet and talented, an intelligent child and nothing more. Their father loved them both equally and the word prodigy never entered the equation.

But then she learned to bend… and Azusa's aspergers found its link. Soon it was all she could focus on. She forgot how to behave in social situations, she alienated her friends, and soon that sweet little girl was gone, replaced by a machine… a monster.

Zuko slipped, cutting his elbow on a rock, and felt his foot plunged into water. A river! He opened his eyes and grinned, cupping his hands and shoveling the water into his mouth and over his arm, wiping it clean of the blood. Once his thirst was quenched, he ripped two fruits from the nearby tree and bit into one, tossing its twin near the Eelhound's feet. She sniffed it for a while, suspicious, but devoured it quickly out of hunger. It was sweet and good, so Zuko took a few more, smiling to his steed as she nibbled on his fingers as he fed her.

"You still don't have a name," he told the distracted beast. "My first pet, a puppy, didn't have one either. But I think you deserve one, a good one too. It would be weird to name you after my mom, and my sister was crazy, so I doubt you want that. I'd name you after my ex-girlfriend, but then she would hate me even more… I'm going to name you Scales. I was looking for something nostalgic, but that doesn't suit you, does it, girl?"

She pushed her nose into his chin and licked his jaw, thanking him for the meal.

"We won't survive on fruit alone. I guess we can put up camp here. I'll fish and you…"

Scales tilted her head at him.

"I'm talking to you as if you're Toph," he laughed.

He pulled his fishing pole (which was actually a long stick with some long string and a hook) out of the bag and hooked some fruit onto it. He cast it out and waited patiently for the fish to bite. The sun dipped lower and soon hid behind the trees and Zuko closed his eyes, finding the coolness of the shade and the water on his toes completely relaxing. But falling asleep wasn't going to get them food or cook it, and his only company lacked opposable thumbs, so he sat up, rubbed his eyes, and focused on the fish that weren't biting.

"You're doing that wrong you know," said a friendly voice. He started and tipped his hat further down. He still wasn't in a secluded enough area to be relaxed in.

He turned around to take a glimpse at the speaker. A tall, slender young woman peered at him, a basket of paints and paper clasped tight in her fist. There was something familiar about her smiling face, but he couldn't seem to put a name to it. It's round, youthful, girlishness teased his mind; yes, he had certainly met her before, but the circumstances, her name, everything about her, had evaded him completely.

"Excuse me," Zuko asked, resting his pole in his lap.

"I said that you're doing it wrong," she chirped. He could feel her walking up behind him.

"Doing what wrong?"

"Fishing. You can't use fruit for that; it would lose its fragrance in the water. And it's floating on the surface, see?" She rested her hand on his shoulder and pointed to his hook, bobbing merrily in the water. "You have to use something that floats under the water. Haven't you ever fished before?"

Zuko shook his head. Iroh, servants, or his friends had all done that for him.

"What?!"

She stared at him, shocked. He looked up at her with his better eye and shook his head again.

"…Well… do you need some help? I know how to fish," she offered. "And I'm good company. And maybe I could paint you… but only if that would be okay with you, of course."

He wasn't a fool; he knew that this situation had the potential of getting out of hand, of leading to his discovery and possibly his death. But he missed human contact, he missed food. And this girl, this woman, with her ample bosom and small hands and the basket overflowing with jars of paint, seemed more desirable that any being he had ever encountered.

So he blushed and nodded, earning an eager grin from his companion.

He handed her the makeshift rod carefully, afraid to drop it in the mud.

"We'll need proper bait first. Is it in your bag?"

Zuko looked up a little at her, silent and dumbfounded. "B-bait?" he asked cluelessly. "I don't have any."

She sighed. "And how exactly were you planning to survive? Ah… um… Oh! I suppose you could find some yourself. With this much mud, I bet you ten gold pieces that you're sitting on a pile of Violet Emperor Worms!"

Zuko's eyes widened and he sat up further on the riverbank, where the grass was green and lush and provided him with a barrier.

Again, another sigh met his reaction. The woman dropped to her knees and dug her hands into the dirt. "If I bait the hook, you have to do the fishing. ...You have nice hands. You don't seem to like getting them dirty. Are you nobility?"

"Something like that."

At the mention of them, Zuko stared at his hands, inspecting the backs and his palms, as well as his clean nails. They were a man's hands; strong, sturdy. But they were soft and loving too, and they longed to run their fingers through Mai's black satin hair.

"Got one!" the woman shrieked excitedly, impaling the wriggling purple worm with the hook. "Cast it out."

He followed her orders and swung the rod over his head, casting the baited hook far into the river.

"Nice arm," she commented as she sat next to him. "Do you mind if I paint you?"

He shook his head and she smiled sweetly at him. He felt his face heat up.

"My name is Jin, by the way."

Zuko blushed further and nodded, instantly recognizing her supple cheeks and huge grin. She had given him his first kiss… and he had never talked to her again. Perhaps she was furious with him, or knew of his true identity, or worse… knew of his "death". But he felt that he could trust her, because she was nice and sweet and had a very lovely voice.

"It's good to meet you," he said, facing her. He smiled shyly.

Jin blinked slowly as she took in his scar.

"…Aren't you supposed to be dead?" She asked weakly, unsure of what else to say.

"There's a long story behind that," Zuko explained, sighing darkly, his long eyelashes brushing his cheek as his eyes closed in sadness.

"Well… I like stories," Jin said softly, peeking at him curiously from under his hat. She looked out at the hook, which remained still, bobbing up and down in the river. He told her his tale. He told her of his banishment and his sister and his rise to glory. He told her about Mai and how she loved him for who he was. And the story progressed… so he told her of his failure as the Fire Lord, about how much he hurt his best friend.

Meanwhile, she painted him.

"She sounds great," Jin mused, imagining what the blind bender looked like, wondering if she would be a good model. She stared up at the starry sky. "I should hate you, you know. Those rebels wrecked my art studio. And they threatened my grandfather. Apparently, he housed the Avatar at some point. New travels fast in a city like Ba Sing Se. That's why I left."

"But you _don't_ hate me."

"Nope. It isn't your fault exactly. Sure, it's your fault that paint taxes spiked, but there will always be those that don't agree with the government. Some are violent, so it can't be helped, right?"

"So I'm safe?" he questioned skeptically.

"Are you?"

He looked over at his Eelhound and then at the horizon. Jin stared at him with curious eyes. She tapped her paintbrush on his knee to bring his face back to her.

"If what you're asking..." she continued, biting her lip as she carefully mixed a rich brown, "if you're asking whether I'm going to turn you in, the answer is no. But I don't know if you're safe. You've gotten pretty far for where you came from."

He nodded somberly, the air in his chest taut with worry and regret.

"So you're a prince, huh?"

"An ex-lord, actually," he joked.

"So you were an ex-prince when I met you. You're so handsome. Were then too, ...but you've grown up a bit. You're what I call an _enigma_!" Jin laughed joyously to the stars. "If I see you again will you panic and run away like last time?"

"I probably won't be here. I have to find a place where no one knows about me, where there isn't any gossip. Spending more time with _anybody_ sounds fantastic right now... but I need to keep going."

She stroked the canvas with her brush and eyebrows began to take form, turning the face serious and lost, unsure. But it was beautiful. It was beautiful because it was true. And she felt at peace, the way she felt whenever she created something magical: a masterpiece.

"I really like you. Will you _please_ stick around for a few weeks? Just long enough for me to turn twenty? I'd like to be with someone other than just my grandfather."

"No."

"You don't want to?"

She painted the leathery wrinkles of his scar and watched as the painting became a story.

"You don't seem to realize that I could be killed. I'm supposed to be dead as is!"

"But they _won't_ find you," Jin pleaded. "My house isn't very big, but it's hidden."

Zuko saw the desperation in her body and eyes. He saw an artist, hungry for a friend, for inspiration, separated from the rest of the world. He could tell. A loner. She was sad too, just like him. Just like Mai.

"You're very lonely, aren't you?"

She nodded her head, her eyes kept far from him. "I don't have anyone to paint."

"But you're painting me right now."

"I like your face. Your company makes me paint well. You would have a friend… and you would be safe for a few weeks, you can start up again once the chaos has died down!"

Zuko shook his head. It wasn't that he didn't want to spend a month with an attractive almost-stranger. But he was putting himself at risk. Jin sighed but nodded, understanding yet disappointed. She held a definite attraction for him. He was mysterious and quiet, and though he was shy, he was strong and had passionate eyes that distracted her and wound her in. Jin never truly liked men younger than her and was bothered by immaturity. She had always fantasized about someone alluringly intelligent and mature, some professor or scholar with a strong jaw and soft lips and the same piercing eyes that Zuko had.

Perhaps it was the eyes, but she felt that all he had experienced at the age of seventeen hardened him in the most captivating of ways. Although his age classified him as a boy, his person was a man: striking, discerning, and kind.

She perked up her head as she heard a splash.

The rod began to bend, and nearly escaped Zuko's hands. He leaned back and pulled, dragging the line out of the water. With a final grunt, he pulled a fish out of the river. He blinked rapidly as it flipped and tumbled, splashing water into his eyes.

She swallowed hard as she realized that she was staring at him again.

Jin watched with interest as he cut the meat out of the fish and set it over the fire. He turned and prodded it and added leaves and twigs to the growing flame. She cocked her head to the side.

"What?"

"You can cook but you can't catch fish?"

"I'm not completely incapable," he chuckled quietly.

"I'm just… impressed!" She pushed his shoulder playfully and grinned. "Would you serve me up some of that fish? It looks delicious."

She rested her canvas against a log and took the food in her hands. She ripped the crisped scaly skin from the orange muscle underneath and raised it to her mouth. She beamed up appreciatively at him, but was caught off guard as Zuko bit his lips, hiding a laugh.

"What?"

"You have scales on your face."

"Where?" She brushed her thumb against her lip and caught an iridescent green fleck. "Gone?"

He shook his head. "You have about five more to go."

"Mm. Show me where." She pushed her cheek toward him and he brushed them off of her jaw and lips.

She sat back down, afraid that her would feel the heat in her face, and ate the rest of her meal in silence.

She brought her painting back into her lap and stared at his golden eyes.

What does one do when their life has broken? Does one try to recreate the life they once had, a life familiar and comfortable, or does one start anew, take the card that was dealt and fashion a new opportunity? And when the sexual attraction is so strong between two people, when electricity and excitement bubbles over every word spoken, do the two act upon their hearts… or their minds?

There was a long silence before either of them spoke, so Zuko tried to find the answers to these riddles.

Jin watched him think. Wondering if he would fall asleep in his thoughts (for it was very late), Jin realized how long she had spent talking to him. The fire continued to blaze, keeping a fine warmth around her, yet the moon was high in the sky and it had been several hours since she first baited the hook.

"How's the painting going?"

"Well, but it's hard to paint your… um…" she struggled uncomfortably with the words in her mouth.

"Scar?"

She nodded.

He frowned a little at her, disappointed that she too found it disturbing. He had assumed different. "I'm not ashamed of it, and I've come to terms with what it means. It is very important to me that you don't walk on eggshells."

"Because the scar is connected to your past?" She asked.

"Or because it's insulting!"

She gulped a little, surprised by his anger… and moreover of her own fear. Zuko's eyes narrowed and the flame grew and all the while; it was as if arrows were pelting through her skin. He stared, those tapered eyes ever judging and revealing, watching for deceit. Jin felt as if she was naked and unguarded.

"I'm sorry. I just expected it… to be a more tender issue. I like your scar."

Clearly he was just as taken aback by this as she was by his anger. His face flushed and he nodded. He turned his face so she wouldn't see, then he felt her strangely calloused hand on his chin, guiding it back to her canvas. But to Zuko's surprise, he felt her lips on his, drawing him into a hungry kiss. In fact he was so startled, his heart began to race and adrenaline pumped through his system, making him super aware of the woman on his lap. Every touch, every time her finger grazed the back of his neck, his hair would stand on end as if he had been struck by lightning, something which Zuko found both unsettling and highly pleasurable.

The kiss was returned cautiously, if not shyly, and strong hands pulled her in closer. Jin was delighted. Her life had been devoid of contact for so long, and the felling of skin made her wild, eager. She ran her tongue along his mouth and dragged her thumbs along his jaw, trying to drink in everything she could about this wonderful warm night. But she was careless and starving for affection, which took away her mind, her judgment. She never felt the cloth touch her fingers or the resistance as it pulled until she felt his now bare back against her arms and he had pushed her away.

"I'm sorry," she screamed, shocked at her own boldness. He was royalty! And to add salt to the wounds, she had only known him for a few hours. She felt stupid and like a fool, yet still, no matter how much she reprimanded herself, she couldn't get the excitement out of her system.

"Do you not realize that you could be _killed_ if we're discovered?! Do you get it?! I am supposed to be _dead_! Why do you think I'm running?!" He ripped his shirt off the ground and leered at her, his glare almost painful.

She stood up straight and glared right back. "You don't _see_ anybody, do you? I can decide for myself what situation I want to get involved with. I was just acting on what I felt."

"That's hedonistic, and furthermore, ridiculous!"

"But it's better than running," she countered. But as she continued to be the recipient of his anger her will broke and she sighed. "I really like you and I haven't had company in a very long time. I wanted to remember tonight."

"Remember?"

"Romance," she said simply, her catlike eyes catching him off-guard. "I wanted to have a romance, I've never had anything memorable happen to me… nothing interesting. I'm tired of every day being bland. I want to change things."

"So you're starting with me?!"

The ex-royal bashfully pulled his shirt back over his head. This whole encounter was inappropriate, from the very beginning. After knowing the woman for such a short time, he had revealed everything that was supposed to be secret. Lords, married or otherwise, were to be prudent and focused. Women were meant to be supporting wives and mothers, sex was only for the purpose of reproduction. That's how things were for hundred of years. Of course, tradition was always secretly broken, as was the case with him and Mai, but propriety has held in high regard. Yet he was so attracted to her. Jin was a beautiful, talented, and incredibly intelligent person, the kind of person that Mai was. As much as he tried to extinguish it, the heat in his body would not cool.

He looked down at her and took a seat next to her, expelling a deep huff of air from his craving mouth.

"I didn't have an agenda when I saw you," she told him. "You looked really thin and tired, I thought I could help. But you _inspire_ me, Zuko. Do you know what a special feeling that is? Oh, you just want to drink it all in and _feel_ everything. But you have to leave… I doubt we'll ever meet again. I needed something from you."

"I _can't_, Jin."

"Why?"

"Well, uh… u-um. For starters…"

"You have no reason." Her eyes connected with his in a way that intimidated him. She spoke slowly, teasingly, and he felt her moist breath on his face. "We both like each other. You know that. So what's the problem?"

Reaching out, he brushed a loose hair away from her bare shoulder. His hand rested where it lay, timidly touching the nape of her elegant neck. The hair fell back into place yet went unnoticed as lips and tongues met, pining and frenzied, their nakedness filling a hungry void.

But all Zuko could do is try to forget the feeling of silky black hair and the musk of incense that weaved though it.


	5. Halves

**Yeah, so I'm worried I'll get sued. So to hell with being aloof and nonchalant and devil-may-care. I like not being broke. I do not (and never will) own Avatar: The Last Airbender. Just in case anyone was confused as to what website this is.**

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Jin woke up early the next morning, her dress draped carefully around her womanly hips. As her mischievous eyes fluttered open, letting in both pre-dawn light and consciousness, the events of the last night blurrily drifted into her mind. Her already tousled hair was tangled and lopsided and she had two scrapes on the small of her back where a log had met her skin. Taking in a deep breath, pulling in the scent of earth and morning, she tugged her dress onto her form, noticing how unusually cold it was.

A dainty smile spread itself onto the girlish face. It had been so long since Jin was able to connect with somebody so easily… and it had _certainly_ been a _very_ long time since she had anything close to sex. It, the passion, the heat, was an undeniably vivid memory. Unlike the times she had woken up next to her month-long flings, who were all hopelessly intelligent yet remarkably dull, this was something she would remember, a fantasy come to life: a muse.

She spread her arms wide and stretched, yawning, the giddy sensation of her awakening muscles soothing her stiff body. Once her mind was clear, she scanned the landscape for her inspiration. His Eelhound, whose name he revealed to be Scales, was resting lazily by the riverbank, her large shiny belly expanding with every breath. Jin knew he would never leave without his companion. He was too lonely, sweet, too desperate for that sort of cruelty.

But he was nowhere in sight.

"Zuko!"

Jin waited for an answer, but only Scales responded to her call, sleepily raising her head to find the noise. She walked over slowly, the saddle shifting sloppily on her back, and pushed her brow into the girl's hand.

"Are you a fox-kitten in disguise? You're the sweetest Eelhound I've ever met. Most of you are difficult to train, so their owners tame you with pain, making you guys really scared, right? But you're so eager, you're so gentle. So Zuko must love you very much. I bet he takes really good care of you."

Scales almost seemed to smile; her human-like eyes made Jin feel like a friend. She grabbed the lizard's reins and pet her peeling nose.

"Can you take me to Zuko?"

Jin followed the animal as it lazily led her through trees and over patches of long green grass that ticked her calves and knees. The sun rose over the horizon and leaked into the earthy river, quickly lancing through the blindness of the morning haze. Several hundred meters from where she first awoke, Zuko stared at a tree stump, focused and completely deaf to the world around him. Curious as she was, Jin quietly approached him, glancing over his shoulder to catch a glimpse of his engrossment. Inquisition and fascination were as much a part of her as was her fingers or paints or lungs.

"'Cha doing?"

Pens dropped from the large hands as Zuko gasped in surprise, turning to face the destroyer of his concentration. But the only threat was Jin and her wide-eyed naiveté. That slow way of blinking, the spacey stare that constantly occupied her otherwise beautiful face, infuriated him. It wasn't stupidity or cluelessness, he understood that with ease. It was obliviousness, gullibility: a rashness that made him think she never quite escaped the age of sixteen. Danger didn't frighten her, nor did his scar or his history; she was a woman of impulses, of hedonism. But her wit, her talent, her charm, and most noticeably her beauty, were things he was beginning to adore. This was incredibly dangerous. Zuko took a deep breath and entwined the now dirty pen in his fingers.

"I'm writing a letter."

"Who to?"

"To you. I didn't think you would be up this early, but I didn't want to be rude."

Jin smirked, a gentle curl of the lips. "Even after last night you're polite. You're way too polite."

"It's a hard habit to break."

Jin gingerly pushed the paper off the stump, playfully taking a seat in front of her muse; her scent, the smell of skin and– was that lotus? –, tickled his nose.

"Then it's far more polite to say a goodbye in person, wouldn't y'say?"

"I don't want to become too fond of you. And you don't need someone like me putting you in danger."

Jin sighed, resigned, defeated. "I can help you, Zuko."

"I told you twice, I simply can't—"

"I don't mean to say you should stay with me," she snapped. "I know a town… small, _very_ small, no more that a mile and a half long. It's hidden by the mountains there." She extended a graceful finger, slightly blue with ink stains, and pointed to the mountains in the fog. "Because those mountains are so steep, no one really bothers. So they, the village, don't know much about the outside world, especially not about the Fire Nation. You could hide there for a few years, wait for things to settle, then, maybe, you could resurface."

Leaving his home was difficult, as was the journey thus far. In his years he had lost more than he could count of his fingers and toes, in his banishment he had learned and hurt more than he ever thought possible. His life was never simple, never easy; Zuko was doomed to a life of complications and hardship, the way incredible men often are. So when he heard this, a wave of unfamiliarity took him over, plunged him under the surface, leaving him disoriented and aware.

"How far is it," he asked quietly.

"About a day or two on foot. As I said, the mountains are steep. But you have Scales," she paused to touch the lizard's jaw, "so you could probably cut that time in half. …Zuko?"

"Yeah, sorry."

"Do you want me to come with you?"

"Why?" He asked, his voice almost rude.

"Because. I'm sick of things here. Your life is exciting. _You're_ exciting."

"No. We had a deal. One night, then this never happened."

Jin pouted, standing up and ripping his letter into pieces before him.

"That isn't any fun. You're just afraid."

He nodded in agreement, his apathetic response only angering her further.

A woman who wants to be wanted is a frightening thing. She will plot and plan and do all manner of reckless things just to earn a second glance, a smile, even an insult. Women who desire romance, especially women who have been deprived of such a thing, are desperate and foolish. Self-image and propriety, their self respect, seem to fall out of their minds like dung from a pig, leaving them silly, empty-headed cretins who are satisfied more by a wink of the eye than any measure of accomplishment they themselves could achieve.

"Of course it isn't any fun. And of course I'm afraid. I'm hiding from an entire world of people who would have me dead if they found out I was alive. You would only be a burden to me, not to mention the fact that you would risk your life for someone you have only encountered twice. Use your mind!"

Jin blinked as he tied his belongings to the saddle of his steed and mounted it. Lonely multicolored hands grabbed the reigns out of his grip and held them strong.

"Will I see you again?" She asked, her cheeks red with humiliation.

"Maybe."

"Can you be more specific?" she grumbled, arms crossed over her chest.

"Can you be more realistic?" Zuko countered. "I don't know much of anything. In the past week alone I've submitted to a coup, faked my death, and traveled hundreds of miles away from my country. Things aren't quite set in stone for me! If you want to you can wait a few months and see if I'm still in the village, but I can't _risk_ _anything_ right now."

Hitting the side of the beast with a soft _fwip_, the reigns were dropped as Jin's eyes started to tear. Rolling his eyes, Zuko kissed her on the forehead. "If you've read any great stories, you know that romance never ends with perfect happiness. Smile. You look like a jerk when you don't."

Quirky laughter fell from Jin's lips. She hiccupped quietly and grinned. Princes didn't fall in love with painters, but painters were all supposed to have open hearts and giddy minds. It was a rule of the world. Princes had to be narrow-minded to focus on a kingdom; painters had to fall thoughtlessly in love to create beautiful work. None without flaw, none without sin. Incompatible to a fault. But Jin knew this… and Jin didn't care. After all, she was the painter in this equation.

Somberly, she waved a hand in farewell and thanks as the steed began to run, her sturdy yet graceful legs carrying him out of her sight in a matter of minutes.

**

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**

_"I can't believe that a year ago my purpose in life was hunting you down. And now…"_

"_And now we're friends."_

"_Yeah. We __**are**__ friends."_

_The younger boy smiled, amazed that his journey was finally over._

"_**I**__ can't believe that a year ago I was still frozen in a block of ice. The world's so different now."_

_Zuko nodded. "And it's going to be even more different when we build it together."_

Aang opened his eyes. It was still dark and Katara was asleep. He slowly rose, bringing the sadness back into his mind, yawning quietly before grabbing a few incense sticks. He lit them with a little flame off his finger and set them on the small shrine, clasping his hands together in prayer.

The silence that followed the news of his death was crushing. Mourning struck them hard, the loss of another friend ripping tears from their eyes and despair from their hearts. And after that sense of loss, that period of uncontrolled tears, no one could find any words to say. Zuko was dead. Toph was missing. The little family they had built for themselves was broken, the glue that held it together ran dry.

A sleepy Katara rolled onto her side. "Come back to bed."

"I can't. Can't sleep."

"You haven't slept for the past week…"

Heavy steps lead her to her love. With a warm blanket draped over her shoulders, she knelt behind him, wrapped her arms around his neck, and pressed her lips to his face in a loving yet doleful kiss.

"It's cold tonight.'

"Yeah." He tugged at the blanket, bringing both it and Katara closer to his body. The smile he greeted her with was insincere, smiles were a luxury he realized he had taken for granted.

"…I love you," she said weakly, her eyes carefully meeting his before looking at the smiling portrait of her friend.

For so long, scars reminded her of the need to survive. They haunted her in her sleep, the powerful golden eye behind it searing with malevolence. Yet as he proved himself loyal, as they spent more time together, the scar was something she began to feel fond of.

The nightmares were back now. Only she was the murderer. She swallowed hard, trying to fend off the heartache that stung her eyes. But the force of the sadness overpowered her and even _she_ couldn't bend away the water that flowed.

His hands reached out to her and brought her face near to kiss. She shook with grief and pain, so he held her tight, cooing all the while, and tried to soothe her heaving sobs.

"Shh-shh-sshhhhh-sh-shh. Easy, I'm here. Just take a breath. Just, come on Katara, look at me, just breathe. Shh. It's okay."

"We left him, Aang. W-we knew he would crumble and we left! If we just stayed… Oh my god…". She coughed and hiccupped and struggled for breath, bawling and whimpering, her face slick from her tears.

"Katara, breathe!" His tattooed hands ran over her hair, trying to calm her, pulling the stands away from the unyielding tears on her face. Blue eyes made bluer by redness shut their lids tight, the face they decorated buried itself into Aang's already soaked shirt.

"There was nothing we could have done. I wish there was, but only the rebels can be blamed."

She nodded but continued to shake. Aang took the blanket off his shoulders and wrapped it around her, feeling, as if for the first time since Zuko's death, something other than hopelessness: worry. He held her face, gazing fearfully in the waterbender's eyes, waiting for her to match his gaze, waiting for her to regain composure. Finally, after what seemed like a century, her breath steadied.

"I-I'm sorry."

"Why," he asked, wiping the hurt off her face with a silk cloth.

"You're being so strong… and I'm useless," she spat.

"We don't have to be strong. _You_ don't have to be strong. We lost a friend. For once, it's okay not to be strong."

She didn't remember much about her mother. But she knew she was always strong. Elders would tell her that Kana was kind and brave and a fantastic mother, they would talk of her lovely face and elegant hips. She had blue eyes. She had brown hair. She could waterbend. Blinding sun nor rain nor brutal snow could erase the smile she constantly carried. But these morsels were told to a lost little girl. And with forgetting her mother, the pain of losing her dulled.

But Katara remembered Zuko to every last detail. Every last wrinkle of his scar was irrevocably branded into her mind.

"I love you," she whimpered, another sob threatening to spill out of her throat.

"Hey," Aange turned her chin to face him, "I love you too," he shushed, even though he wasn't sure that the love she was confessing was meant for him. He was aware of how she would slyly peer at him, never knowing that Aang miserably witnessed ever interested glance, every yearning breath and sigh.

But nothing could be done for the matter and they would forever be frozen in stalemate. For Aang loved her too much to release her and Katara's morals were too stiff, not to mention her heart too torn, to follow where that craving lead her. Though he knew Zuko was a far more attractive than he was, being a more appropriate age for a teenage girl, he was never worried.

But now, when the firebender was dead and gone, now, when there was no one to threaten what he had, Aang felt a wave of envy boil through him. No longer was he satisfied with being her second choice, just as long as he remained a choice, no longer did he want only her happiness. He wanted her for himself, and _only_ himself.

Aang's hands flew out, grabbed her and pressed her to his chest. No more. She was his, no one but him could have her.

She sniffed softy and leaned into him, fatigued from the lack of oxygen and the late hour. Scooping her into his arms, he carried her onto the bed, laying her flat, entwining her in his arms.

It was when he pulled her to his body, warm and secure, when she felt his lips on the back of her neck, that Katara realized that Aang no longer seemed so much younger than her.

His arms were lean but strong, long enough to hold her yet not lanky. The juvenile voice of a few years past had faded into the voice of a young man. Muscles replaced flatness, sharper eyes replaced rounder ones. But, unlike most his age, Aang was not a teenager, but was forced to become a man in his duty as the Avatar.

He fiddled with the sleeve of her nightdress, staring into her eyes; it was clear he wanted more tonight.

But she turned away. She turned away because it felt like the shrine was watching her.

"Do you know how the others are?" Aang asked, interrupting her thoughts. She could hear the annoyance in his voice. "……Sokka and Suki, I mean."

"I got word from Suki, it wasn't much, but I could tell they aren't taking… this… any easier than we are…"

"… I was thinking," he said, softer this time, his eyes focused n the moon, "I was thinking that we should try to look for Toph again. She was Zuko's closest, she should know. I miss her. I want to know that she's alive. I want to talk to her again."

Katara remained silent. Toph was her sister, her closest friend. But she saw the way she used to look at Aang, she knew that those sightless eyes were longingly staring at her beloved. That Toph would be nothing but opportunistic if Katara was out of the picture. That despite all they had been through, Toph would risk any friendship to further her own goals. Selfishness had always been hidden in the small girl's persona. And faced with the potential loss of another loved one, Katara came to a single, honest, albeit misguided resolution: Toph BeiFong was not to be trusted.

Yet she was in a time of loss, a time of disorientation. A time in which confusion was the strongest emotion there was to feel. So she forgot what she did not have at hand and held fast to what she still owned. And so, afraid that her friend would steal the only thing she had left, she told a petty, desperate lie. A terrible lie.

"…I didn't want to tell you…" She took a light breath and watched her boyfriend's face as it twisted into confusion, into worry.

"What is it? Katara?"

". . ."

"Katara?"

"She was killed in a Dai Li rebellion. Right after Zuko. I was going—," she frowned, "I was going to tell you."

"…What…?"

Watching the words of her lie sink in, she knew she had made a horrible mistake. But she was too afraid of losing him to redeem herself.

"…And you didn't _tell me_?!" He slammed a fist on the windowsill. The very house seemed to rattle with his passionate anger. "SHE WAS MY BEST FRIEND! You think this wouldn't change everything?"

"I didn't want to see you like this."

In the corner of their house, Katara sat in shame, trapped between her lie and her desperation. It was a strange thought to think in the moment, but just for a second, before her conscious mind could grab hold of it, she wished that she was like Toph, who would have told him the truth, who had the courage to admit to lies told, who never told lies in the first place. Toph, who was far from perfect, but somehow perfect because of it. Toph.

She didn't want to miss her. Bust she did. She wanted to hate her; that would have made this jealousy easier to bear. Yet she couldn't.

"I cried for so long after I was told. Like a newborn. It felt like all the hope in my world was just ripped away from me. She was like Sokka to me. But you… you love her so much more than I do. She's your twin. I couldn't tell you. I never could."

Aang wanted nothing more than to lie where he was, stonelike, heavy. With Zuko he lost a friend. But Toph was more.

When Aang was a young boy in the air temple, just a few weeks past his birthday, he realized that he had never seen friend MaLi smile. When he asked her why she was always so sad she told him, with a child's uninhibited honesty, that she was lonely. Lacking the decorum that comes with age, Aang asked why she was this way. The Air Temples were filled with friends, and flying bison, and fruit tarts, and wonderful breezy spring days warmed by the sun. How could anyone be so lonely and sad in such a perfect place? Mali frowned, tears bubbling from her too-grown-up eyes. She told him a story. When she was born, several winters ago, her mother was very sick from the blizzards that trapped her and left her malnourished. She was supposed to have twins. The other was going to be named Lei. She would have had the same strange eyelashes as her would-be sister and they would have shared everything, except for their taste in men, as they would have found out much later. But Lei was weaker than her sister, and never saw more than an hour of sunlight.

MaLi is what the nomads called a Half. A severed child. Aang never understood how one person could be part of someone else, be less than one person.

But Aang understood that he was a Half. He pressed his ear to the wooden floor and listened to the hints of minerals and waited for the smell of earth to come back to him. But the house was aching with silence. He wondered if MaLi ever learned to smile. He wondered if he himself could ever live as he did before this severance.

No.

Once a Half, always a Half.


End file.
